Falling, Falling, Falling.

Soaring alone through the atmosphere at 291,000 miles per hour can get lonely. How long has it been? Millions, billions, of years? I’ve lost count. It’s so dark. And so, so empty.

Sometimes, I see another streak of light across the sky, and I wonder if it’s someone just as lost as me.

Why am I here? Where am I going? I’m not quite sure.

The shimmering outline of a huge, dark blue sphere burst out of the gaping darkness below me. Driven by wonder, I can’t help but edge closer to the planet. Suddenly, I can hear voices.

“Look, momma, a shooting star! Make a wish!” a young girl exclaimed as she sat atop her mother’s shoulders, gesturing excitedly towards the sky.

The woman laughs. “What do you want to wish for, dear?”

“More shooting stars!” she squealed with delight, nearly tumbling off her mother’s shoulders. “Then I can make more wishes!”

The girl’s eyes sparkle. I can feel something warm inside of me when I stare back at her. It reminds me of myself, my enthusiasm and happiness before was I forced apart from the rest of the comet and left alone in the atmosphere.

Her tiny hands reached towards the heavens, waving at me as I flew out of sight.

“Guys! Come look! It’s a shooting star!”

Four young faces press against the window as they strain to get a closer look, tumbling over each other as they fight over the best spot.

“What are you going to wish for, James?” Evan asked wistfully, his hand against the window as if he was reaching out to me.

“Me? More video games,” James replied with a grin. Greg, with his face still smashed against the window, nodded in agreement.

“I want good luck so I can get better stuff than James and Greg,” Alan proclaimed, crossing his arms and sticking his tongue out at his older brothers.

“It’s not my fault you don’t play enough!” James protested.

 Alan retorted, “You waste too much time on video games.”

Evan patted his two younger brothers lightly on the head. “Alan, James,” he commanded. “That’s not nice.”

Alan opened his mouth to protest, but thought better, muttering a meek “Sorry.”

After a few moments of silence, Greg prodded James in the back, who crossed his arms. “Sorry,” he mumbled back, looking at the floor.

Is this what human connection is like? Selfish, superficial, but somehow still so sweet? How I wished I could frolic with them and exchange taunts and jokes.

They returned to squabbling as I drifted past an office building so tall it scraped the sky.

“Is your project done yet? You really need to hurry up, it was due last week.”

Christine winced under her boss’s glare as she balanced a stack of papers in both hands. “I-I’ll get it done soon. I swear.”

“This performance is unacceptable,” her boss retorted. “If you keep this up, I might have to let you go.”

“But you put me on a five-person project on such a short and no extra time—” Christine protested.

“No excuses. Get to work and stop complaining.” She stared at Christine for a few moments longer, then walked away, shaking her head in disapproval, her heels clicking against the floor as she walked.

Christine dropped the stacks of paper on her desk and buried her face in her hands as I flashed through her window. She glanced up at me and her sad expression faded a little, replaced by a glimmer of hope.

 “I can get through this, right?” she whispered. In her voice I could hear the echoes of her fading dreams, the hopes and aspirations of her youth trickling away as she faced harsh reality.

I want her to know that dreams do come true; I hope that she wishes on me too.

The next building I passed was nothing short of grey and drab. The radio played the same ‘60s song on repeat, serving simply to fill the days upon days of silence.

The frail girl swaddled in blankets couldn’t muster more than simply opening her eyes when her nurse opened her window and took a deep breath of the evening air.

“Where’s Mama?” Amy whispered.

“Mama’s waiting for you, honey, don’t you worry,” the nurse cooed after a moment of silence.

Amy’s eyes turned glassy and she slouched back into bed. “Mama,” she murmured, her voice gaining strength. “Mama, Mama. I want Mama.” Agitated, she sat back up but winced at the pain. “I want Mama. I don’t want you. I want Mama…”

Her nurse looked outside, as if seeking something comforting to tell the young girl. Her gaze latched on to me, and she gave a small gasp, pointing in my direction. I could tell she was desperate, desperate for something positive to tell this young, hospitalized girl who would never be able to have a happy childhood. “A shooting star! Amy – I bet that’s your Mama, telling you she will always watch over you.”

She smiled warmly as the child finally turned towards the window, her eyes widening. “Mama!” she yelled. “I love you, Mama! I miss you so much!” How much I wished I could float down to Earth and comfort this precious child – to give her the happy life she deserved.

“Never forget, Amy,” the Nurse murmured as she knelt to Amy’s eye level. She pointed to me and continued, “Mama will always watch over you. Every time you see a falling star – that’s your Mama. Never forget that she loves you, and will always love you, as much as you love her.” Amy nodded, collapsing into her Nurse’s arms.

As I sped across the dark sky, the melody from Amy’s room continued to echo in my head: Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away; catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day.